Sleepwalker
by OzGeek
Summary: Tony uses McGee's sleepwalking to solve a case while they are on a stake out. Written for the NFA sleepwalking challenge. Spoilers for season 7. 4 Chapters.
1. Late Again

**Chapter 1 - Late Again**

Tony DiNozzo entered the almost empty, tiny one bedroom apartment and sniffed the air expertly.

"You had pizza for lunch: the lot – including the anchovies."

Ziva lowered her binoculars and regarded him nonchalantly from her vantage point at the window. "There are no leftovers, Tony."

"Oh Man!"

Outside, nightfall was just throwing a rosy glow on the horizon but it could not cast a favorable light over the spartanly furnished room. Three collapsible desks had been manhandled together and loaded up with two monitors, headphones and uncountably many cables. The two chairs were vintage 1960 with torn green vinyl seats and backrest questionably supported by four rusty legs. The bare wooden floor was littered with discarded coffee cups.

"Where's McGee?" asked Gibbs removing his headphones and placing them carefully on the desk next to two empty pizza boxes.

Tony bit his tongue as the words "Late again" tried to blurt out. "Coming," he said finally.

"Bringing pizza, is he?"

"He will be." Tony whipped out his cell.

"Hello," answered a groggy voice.

Tony's eyes swiveled to Gibbs but not a muscle twitched on his face. "McGee: I know you're almost here _at the stake out_ but could you stop off and pick up a pizza."

There was a few seconds of confused silence on the other end of the line followed by a panicked tone. "What time is it?" Then incoherent mumbled began:"I must have dozed off. Stake out again tonight? Can't we just admit the intel was wrong and get some sleep… I've got one sock on – no half a sock. How could I fall asleep in the middle of putting on a sock?"

"Great," Tony interrupted. "See you soon." He clicked off the cell and looked steadily at Gibbs. "He's almost here, you guys can go."

Ziva fought to force the ancient window closed but only managed a painful scraping against the frame and a small addition of white paint flakes to the existing pile on the sill. Gibbs strode over to her and gave the frame three well placed hits before sliding the window closed.

"They're temperamental at this age," he noted.

Ziva nodded and began the task of collecting coffee cups from the floor.

"How was it?" Tony asked dumping his bag on the floor next to desk.

Ziva screwed up her face, trying to find the right words. "Do you remember how incredibly boring it was last night?"

"Yep"

"…and how completely boring his apartment was when we searched it?"

"Oh yeah," Tony shook his head.

What a non-productive day that had been. While Gibbs conducted probably the world's blandest interrogation, the three younger agents took their search warrant and conducted the world's most mind-numbing house search. Two bedrooms, one kitchen, one bathroom, one laundry, one lounge/dining room and a whole lot of beige with the possible exception of the front door which was an incongruous bright red. Years from now, someone was going to see the photos they took that day and wonder why they were sepia toned. The place made Gibbs' house look like the centerfold spread in a housing magazine. They had searched through every cupboard, every closet, every dull, beige nook and cranny and found absolutely nothing. Yet they all knew that the occupant was still dealing and the stuff was coming out of the house.

Tony sighed at the memory. "That was the most incredibly bor…"

"Today's surveillance was much, much worse." Ziza assured him. "The man has a schedule – I have itemized it for you here." She pointed to a piece of paper on the table then resumed collecting cups. "Yesterday was the exactly the same and tomorrow will be more of the same." Securing the final cup at the top of the enormous tower in her hand, she stood. "Enjoy."

With that, she grabbed her backpack and left smiling the relieved smile of the free.

Gibbs sidled up to Tony, two pizza boxes in his arms. "Next time you might want to call him _before _you leave your place," he said quietly in Tony's ear as he walked out the door.

"Ahh, right boss."


	2. Routines

**Chapter 2 - Routines**

"I hope she's worth it," said Tony as McGee stumbled through the door; backpack slung on his elbow joint and two pizza boxes balancing precariously in his hand.

"Me too," McGee grumbled. Then he froze and squeezed his eyes together.

"Aha: Caught!"

McGee's shoulders slumped and the pizza boxes fell to the floor.

"Don't even try," Tony assured him. He paused and regarded McGee's pale, puffy face and his red, slightly glassy eyes. "She must have been good: you don't look like she let you have any sleep."

"Yeah, but not for the right reasons. She just needed … oh forget it."

Tony rescued a pizza box from the floor and slid out a piece. "I thought you'd given up this lap-dog thing," he said through a mouthful.

"This is different," countered McGee picking up the other box and throwing it loosely on the table.

"Why; because you didn't hope to get lucky with Gibbs?"

McGee dumped his bag on the ground next to a desk. "Don't even joke about it."

"Spill."

"Forget it."

"Face it, Probie: you are way too tired to hold out on me. You might as well get it out of the way. Here," Tony pulled McGee to a chair and opened the pizza box in front of him.

McGee regarded him steadily for a moment before relenting and grabbing a slice of pizza. "I don't know how she found out I was home during the day – she must be psychic."

"Makes a change from psycho, like your usual type."

"I don't go for psychos."

"Oh come on: girls who order furniture on your credit cards, South African assassins, obsessive polygraph operators …"

"OK, OK. She's not crazy, armed or obsessed. She's just nice and normal and she's a neighbor."

"So she's ugly."

"No she's just – normal."

"But she's not Palmer-hot."

"What?"

"Come on, have you seen the dates he gets? He might be Ducky's Igor but chicks dig that whole doctor-death thing he has going."

"And of course Jimmy's never had a psycho assassin girlfriend now has he?"

"Well, yes OK there was one, but now he's getting tattoos!"

"Amateur – mine is permanent."

"They got matching ones. Where was I?"

"I think you'd finished."

"Nice try. Ahh no – the 'nice' neighbor who you hope has a hot sister."

"I didn't say that."

"But you are going to."

McGee took a deep breath and closed his eyes as if composing himself. A minute later Tony realized he wasn't going to open them without prompting so he prompted. "Hey, we're working here."

McGee wrenched open an eye. "I didn't get any sleep."

"Then spill me the details and maybe we can work something out."

McGee gave him a long, hard, yet bleary look before reaching for another slice of pizza and settling back in his rickety chair as best he could. "I'd just got back from stakeout last night and there she was: knocking on my door. She said she needed help from a handyman."

"So she doesn't know you at all then."

"I thought she wanted a light bulb changed or something."

"When in fact…"

"She is renovating her kitchen."

Tony sighed and took another slice of pizza. "Rookie mistake," he surmised.

"Anyway, I was ripping out cupboards until two in the afternoon and I suddenly realized I'd had no sleep so I made some excuse and left. Next thing I knew you were calling me and I was on my bed with half a sock on – or off. Are these the same clothes I was wearing yesterday?"

"You need to get out now, McGee," Tony warned. "I've seen you go through this before – you're like a loyal puppy, you just keep coming back for more abuse. Tell her 'no' or you'll end up renovating her entire house."

"I know," McGee admitted sadly. "I'll tell her when I get back."

"And don't even think about sleeping through this stake out because I'm not covering for you again."

* * *

Tony sighed as he watched McGee sleeping peacefully on folded arms illuminated by the thin glow of the tiny desk lamp. It was only marginally more interesting that watching the boring man across the street on the monitor sleeping in his comfortable bed. At least there was the chance McGee might fall off the chair – especially if it just happened to tilt just a little. Why hadn't he thought to bring superglue with him? It should be part of the stakeout kit.

As he watched, McGee started to stir in his sleep, agitated about something.

Tony leaned forward and spoke softly in McGee's ear. "If this is a dream about that neighbor, Probie, I don't think you're doing it right." Suddenly he pulled his head back as McGee shot up, staggered across the room and dropped to one knee.

"Proposing already, Probie?" Tony called after him. "You've been holding out on me. She must be worth a complete kitchen makeover."

Then McGee put his left arm up and threw it wide.

Frowning, Tony closed the gap between them. As he got closer he could hear McGee mumbling, "There's something wrong with this cupboard."

Tony crouched beside McGee whose eyes were clearly focused on something in front of him.

"What's wrong with the cupboard?" Tony asked.

"Inside, it's not right inside. The pipes are wrong."

"Well maybe you can fix it tomorrow. It's bed time now."

"OK"

"Here we go." Tony hoisted McGee to his feet and began to lead him back to the desks before he realized there was nothing even remotely resembling a bed in the room. Improvising, he lowered McGee to the ground.

"Back in bed now," he said unconvincingly as McGee's bones thudded about on the hard wooden floor.

McGee curled up obligingly and sighed peacefully. Tony gave him 30 seconds to get comfortable before kicking him in the back.

"Probie," he called, "your shift."

McGee's eyes flew open. "Okay, okay: I'm awake."

"And you'd better go and check out your girlfriend's kitchen cupboards – you're dreaming about them."

"Really?"

"Really. I'm guessing the one under the sink – you had problems with the plumbing."

"Right side or left?" McGee joked.

Tony frowned then recreated McGee's nocturnal movements ending on one knee with his arm out wide. "Left," he said finally.

"What … how could you know that from a ballet routine?"

"It wasn't ballet; I was doing the McSleepwalking dance," said Tony, standing and taking a bow.

"I don't sleepwalk."

"Well you do now. Right here and you were mumbling something about a cupboard."

"Man, that's weird."

"Actually it was the most entertaining thing to happen all night."

"Still boring?"

"I'm adding to Ziva's schedule but really it's: eat in front of TV, sit in the bathroom for one and a half hours, more TV then bed."

"Yeah, well maybe he'll thrill us by spending ten minutes buying milk at the shops again tomorrow at 7 am."

"We can only dream, Probie. Well you can - some of us are working."


	3. Awakenings

**Chapter 3 - Awakenings**

"You're on time, Probie," congratulated Tony as McGee ran up to the front door of the stakeout apartment to join him. "I haven't even knocked!"

"… and I bought Chinese," puffed McGee, holding a warm, fragrant bag aloft.

"Hey you can stake out with me anytime."

The door before them opened abruptly to reveal Gibbs' bored face. In his hand he held a half completed crossword. "You two coming in or are you waiting for a goodnight kiss?"

Tony and McGee looked at each other momentarily then followed Gibbs through the door.

"How was it?" Tony asked.

Ziva looked up from the book she was reading. At her feet lay a pile of assorted yet similar books on American culture. "Strangely, a lot like yesterday," she replied. "In fact, exactly to schedule. On the bright side, I have managed to learn a great deal about Americans today."

"Like…?" McGee prompted.

"Like your necessity to include beans at a BBQ."

"Isn't that normal?"

Ziva raised an eyebrow at him before rocking forward of her chair and collecting her books from the floor. "No," she said finally. "Not normal at all."

* * *

McGee yawned widely as he settled at a desk in front of the monitors and donned the headphones.

"Not another late night, Probie?" said Tony as he unpacked the boxes of food. "Or is that day?"

"Hardly had any sleep at all."

"What! I thought you were going to blow her off."

"I couldn't – I was too worried about that cupboard."

"What?"

"Well, I went to bed but I couldn't sleep so I gave up and went over to her house again. I just had to check the pipes out, you know. It could be something really important or dangerous. I mean how would you feel if she drowned overnight because I hadn't thought to check?"

"Drowned Probie?"

"Maybe not drowned, maybe electrocuted…anyway I couldn't find anything wrong. I mean anywhere. The kitchen pipes are fine, the bathroom pipes. I nearly took a mallet to the walls."

"But you came to your senses."

"Actually, she threw me out."

"A bullet dodged, Probie."

"But then I started thinking – maybe it was my pipes and my cupboard. So I went through my place but no luck. It could even be at work. When we finish this stakeout, I'm going through all the cupboards of every single person I know."

"You don't think you're getting just a little obsessive about this?"

"No."

"I'll make you a deal, McDreamer," said Tony. "If you sleepwalk again tonight, I'll ask you which cupboard it is."

"Not going to happen," McGee vowed. "I have never sleepwalked before and I will never sleepwalk again."

* * *

Tony gave all the monitors another scan: nothing. "Two o'clock and all's well," he said quietly to himself.

The magazine in front of him held enticing pictures of nubile young women but the vague lighting from the desk lamp did nothing to enhance their salient features.

He looked across to McGee snoring peacefully with his head thrown against the back of the chair. He marveled how anyone could balance on such a spidery assembly – in fact, it would only take a little push and …. McGee's eyes started jittering and Tony felt a glimmer of excitement in his otherwise dull night. He leaned forward and whispered in McGee's ear, 'Pipes in the cupboard, pipes in the cupboard'.

Suddenly McGee rolled off the chair, staggered a few paces and dropped to his knee again. Tony followed, leaping off his chair and crouching in front of him. When McGee's arm went wide, Tony struck: "Where are you McGee?"

"The bathroom."

"Bathroom? I thought it was a kitchen. Whose bathroom?"

"Too many pipes – they don't connect properly."

"Whose bathroom, McGee ahhh Tim? Whose house are you in?"

"I don't know."

Tony stifled an impatient sigh. "Ok, ok, we can work with this – what color is the bathroom?"

McGee shook his head sadly. "It's weird, it's soooo beige."

"That's it!" Tony yelled, slapping McGee on the back and sending him sprawling across the hard floor.

"Ow," McGee complained as he woke. He looked around from his prone position. "Where am I?"

"Where do you think you are?" Tony asked cryptically.

"In the boring beige house?"

"Not yet but you will be."

"What?"

"I know where he hides the drugs."

"Who?"

"Think about it, Probie: what man spends an hour and a half in the bathroom? Well, come to think of it, I had an uncle who is now my aunt who used to..."

"Stop," said McGee clambering to a sitting position. "I have no idea where I am or what you are talking about. Can we just go through this one step at a time?"

Tony sat cross-legged in front of him, gesticulating wildly. "You know how I promised I would ask you which cupboard had the bad pipes next time you sleepwalked?"

"Yeeeees," said McGee slowly, fully aware that the word was the harbinger of doom.

"Well you did and I did and we've solved the mystery!"

"Now see you lost me again."

"You were sleepwalking and you were in the boring bathroom across the road. You must have subconsciously noticed the pipes were off. So I woke you up."

"I was sleepwalking again? Maybe I need to see a doctor." He paused. "Don't you know it can be dangerous to wake a sleepwalker?"

"Don't you know you're not supposed to sleep on duty?"

"Touche. What do we do now?"

"That search warrant is still valid," Tony tempted.

"Beige man still asleep?"

"Not scheduled to wake up until 6 am."

"Should we tell the boss?"

"Oh sure, go ahead, call him at 2 am and tell him we are about to check out a hunch based on a dream you had while sleeping on duty. He'll be round here like a shot with a promotion in his hands."

McGee considered this momentarily. "I'll put an SMS on speed dial. Let's go."


	4. The Man in the Beige Suit

**Chapter 4 - The Man in the Beige Suit**

"This lock would be easier to pick if you'd brought a light," Tony complained. In truth there was a distant street lamp desperately reaching out to them but it was impossible to stand anywhere that did not cast a shadow on the door handle.

"Shh – hold on I have a flashlight here somewhere on my key ring." McGee fumbled in his pocket.

"I thought you were a scout leader," Tony grumbled. "You should be more prepared."

"My troop is always prepared," said McGee, "just not always me…aha!"

Once inside, the two agents snuck up the narrow beige-carpeted stairway guided by the feeble light of McGee's key ring LED.

"This is not a light, Probie," Tony rasped. "It's the world's smallest LCD TV."

"LED," McGee corrected.

"Like it matters!"

They reached the bathroom door and Tony tried the handle. "It's locked," he whispered.

"Who locks their bathroom when they are outside it?" asked McGee, reaching forward around Tony. "Here let me try."

"I can do it," Tony said hoarsely, fending him off.

A general scuffling ensued and suddenly the bathroom door burst open, throwing both agents to the floor. They froze and waited in silence: nothing. They waited some more: still nothing. Finally Tony let out a breath and declared, "We're clean."

McGee crawled hastily to the bathroom cupboard, Tony hot on his heels, and opened the door. The faint LED revealed a dull collection of no-name brand shampoo, aftershave, soap and toilet paper on the single shelf but above them, in parallel loops attached to the underside of the bathroom cabinet bench, hung three pipes.

"Here," said McGee, handing Tony his key ring, "hold this." Reaching in with both hands, McGee dislodged the two ends of one of the pipes and found it was full of white powder.

"I have a gun aimed at you," said a voice from the doorway. A bright flashlight scanned the room and landed squarely on Tony's face, missing McGee completely.

"Send the SMS and stay there," whispered Tony rising to his feet trying whilst calculating how much time he had to kill before help arrived.

A shadowy figure stood in the doorway, his features indiscernible beyond the glare of his flashlight. Tony took a deep breath. "Ahh hi," he began in a whisper, "I know this must look bad but we just moved in across the street and my buddy here has sleepwalked into your house. We're renovating the bathroom and he has this sort of obsession with them. Last night I found him in our bathroom like this and tonight, we … ahh …just came in from night shift and he was saying how much he liked your red front door. Last I saw he was asleep on the couch. I went to the bathroom and when I came out, he was gone. I searched the apartment and he wasn't there then I saw him across the street at your tasteful front door."

Tony paused for breath, hoping the guy was buying it. If not, that the guy was so confused that Tony was buying time.

The suspect flicked the light switch and a fluorescent tsunami washed over the room causing them all to squint.

Tony heard the gun cock and risked a glance through half blinded eyes. Then he opened them wide in disbelief. "You are kidding me," he said. "Where could you possibly buy beige pajamas?"

"Sears," said Gibbs from the beyond bathroom door. "Drop it."

"They were invading my home," the beige man complained. "I have a right to defend my property."

"They are federal agents with a search warrant who have just found your stash," Gibbs corrected. "You have a right to a lawyer. If you cannot afford one, one shall be appointed to you."

Ziva stepped around Gibbs and handcuffed the perpetrator.

"Can I at least get dressed?" the man complained as Ziva tightened the cuffs.

"This outfit not beige enough for you?" asked Tony. "Tell me: does your clothing look any different to your PJs? Be honest."

As Ziva led the man away, Gibbs tucked his gun back in his belt.

"How'd you get here so quick, Boss?" asked Tony.

"I don't trust you two together for more than one night," Gibbs answered. "We were waiting in the car down the street. How did you figure out where he was hiding the stuff?"

"Actually," Tony admitted, "it was an idea McGee dreamed up."

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Thanks for reading


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